SCM Conference: Shine!
by Bruce Douville
SCM General Conference participant
June 5, 2009
When I informed one of my online friends that I spent a week hanging out with a bunch of radically left, queer Christians, his response was “ew.” I’m quite certain that it wasn’t the “left” or “queer” thing that made him feel icky. It was the “Christian” thing. I understand his instinctive reaction. There’s a lot of baggage that goes along with the label “Christian.” So let me be clear what the Student Christian Movement is, and what it is not.
The SCM isn’t a proselytizing group. This is not Campus Crusade for Christ, or anything remotely like that. The SCM is a group deeply concerned with social justice, community and spirituality. In its own words, “SCM’s vision is to realize liberation and justice in this world by engaging and exploring the prophetic teachings of the revolutionary Jesus of Nazareth.” Canada’s SCM was founded in 1921, and it is a part of a global movement, embodied in the World Student Christian Federation. The Canadian SCM was proportionally much bigger in the 1930s, when it was pretty much the only organization on English-Canadian campuses where students could work for social justice. It remained an important presence on the Canadian university scene until the 1960s, when its numbers declined noticeably. But it still remains in existence, and is every bit as radical as ever.
There is no doctrinal statement, and it is an open, inclusive movement. Its membership includes agnostics and atheists — some of whom choose to identify as “Christian”, others who simply identify as “fellow travellers.” It also includes evangelicals and others who hold relatively traditional Christian beliefs. And it includes many (probably most) who are in between. It also includes those who identify as pagan, or “spiritual but not Christian.” (Note: while the SCM includes self-defined evangelicals, I do not mean fundamentalists. If you hold conservative views on homosexuality or politics, or if you think that you’re on a higher spiritual plane than agnostics or pagans, then you’ll probably find yourself very uncomfortable in the SCM.) Its members come from a variety of church backgrounds (in many cases, multiple church backgrounds). At the conference, one of the participants described herself as a “Mennonite-Wiccan,” others as Anglican, United Church, Lutheran, Roman Catholic, Mennonite, or no affiliation at all. (Remember, you don’t have to be affiliated with any organized religious institution to call yourself a Christian. But it helps.) Some identified as former Pentecostals, former Baptists, former Mormons.
What all members do hold in common, as I indicated earlier, is a passion for social justice. This means all of the usual things that “social justice” implies: anti-war; environmental concerns; solidarity with oppressed peoples globally, nationally, and locally; and economic justice. But it also means putting justice into practice in SCM itself, by creating a community based on respect, inclusion, and mutual support. The business meetings always aimed for consensus, and although I have seen how “the consensus model” can sometimes be a sham (i.e., where a handful of people dominate the meeting and intimidate others into agreeing), that didn’t seem to be the case with the SCM. They even had a “travel pool” for the conference — money was pooled to support those who were travelling from a great distance and required financial assistance. (This reflects a longtime SCM tradition practiced in their summer work camps, known as the “wage pool.” The practice is based on the New Testament church, when all believers held “all things in common.” But it has also been called the most successful application of the Marxist dictum: “from each according to her ability, to each according to her needs.”) There was also a major emphasis on “safety” and “anti-oppression.” While I’ll admit that I have some reservations about how “safety” and “anti-oppression” are applied (because these principles have the potential to be oppressive and silencing), overall, I was impressed by the atmosphere of mutual love, care and respect in the community. (I will say that these were ideals, and that they were not achieved without some intensity, vulnerability, pain, and disappointments. But that doesn’t mean that the ideals weren’t taken very, very seriously. Because they were.)
To call the SCM “queer-positive” is an understatement. The large majority of conference participants this week identified as queer (e.g., lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, genderqueer). Part of the reason for this is that this year’s conference centred on issues of queer and Christian identities (as part of the SCM’s ongoing Queer and Christian Without Contradiction campaign). But the other part of the reason is that the SCM just seems to be a magnet for LGBT folk and their straight-but-not-narrow allies. At one point, one of the conference people quipped that every national conference should make it a goal to convert at least one participant to queerness. (At first I thought he said “convert at least one participant to Christ.” But…uh…we’re not that kind of group.) It wasn’t uncommon for some of us to join in light-hearted chants of “One in ten is not enough! Recruit! Recruit!”
But chanting isn’t a big part of the SCM. (I mean, it isn’t that cultic.) Singing IS a big part of it. There was plenty of singing, some of it spontaneous and very public. (E.g., when we held an impromptu sing-along on the ferry to and from Toronto Island. I’m sure that the others on the ferry — who quite enjoyed it — thought that we were some variety of Jesus Freak.)
One final thing: you are probably wondering, “Bruce, why would you go to this event anyways?” Well, as part of my research into Christianity and 1960s radical culture, I spent a lot of time looking at the SCM and interviewing former SCMers. I was curious to find out what today’s SCM is like, and how one can draw parallels between the movement in the 1960s and the movement today. As well, I kept hearing a lot about the SCM from my friends Geoff and Sheryl, and decided that it was worth checking out. On a personal level (and yes, many of you already know this), I have always seen a close connection between my Christian heritage and my commitment to justice. I have always believed in a spirituality of compassion, and that’s a good starting point for progressive politics. (At least it was for me.) As somebody who is agnostic and who philosophically cannot accept large chunks of traditional Christian doctrine, I’m still eager to retain and affirm the best aspects of Christianity — especially community, solidarity, and working for justice and peace. I find that I still think and act in a Christian framework. Finally, as somebody who remembers how difficult it was to be a Christian and still be at peace with my sexuality (or for that matter, to be at peace with sexuality in general), I was delighted by the conference theme, and I looked forward to spending time with some people who had walked a similar journey to mine.
More to come.
Cheers,
Bruce
